


The Senator and the Jedi

by MrsHamill



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29164233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: Someone is trying to kill Senator Qui-Gon Jinn and it's up to Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi to protect him.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 90





	The Senator and the Jedi

**Author's Note:**

> My first bunny in this fandom in waaaay too long. Bless Temve, Katbear and Laura if you like it, but all crit is mine.

“I do not need a bodyguard.” Senator Qui-Gon Jinn was irritated and the Jedi presence in his office did nothing to alleviate it. “The idea is ludicrous.”

If Mace Windu was similarly irritated, he hid it well. “One, there was a credible attempt on your life last night which resulted in one death.”

“We don’t know if it was an attempt, my speeder merely blew up. It could have been... I don’t know, mechanical issues.” Undoubtedly, the Jedi saw through his excuse as flimsy, which it was. Truth was, Qui-Gon didn’t like thinking about the fact that if he hadn’t been working late, he would have been in his speeder when it exploded.

Windu continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Two, you are in line for the chancellorship—“

“As are both Sheev Palpatine and Bail Organa; are you demanding they have bodyguards as well?”

“There has been no attempt on the life of either of those two worthies, Senator Jinn, as you know.” Windu’s face was completely expressionless. Qui-Gon spent a brief second grateful that Yoda hadn’t made an appearance as well. It was bad enough to have three members of the council and two other Jedi interrupting his already disrupted day. “Three, there have been foreseeings in the Force that the attempt on your life may have something to do with the possible Sith who killed Master Sifo-Dyas and badly injured his companion, Knight Lehnk.”

“The Sith. Bah.” Qui-Gon waved his hand. “A bogeyman to frighten children. We live in enlightened times, Councilor.”

“Regardless how you feel on the matter, Senator,” and was that a trace of aggravation Qui-Gon sensed? “the Jedi deal in facts. There _will_ be another attempt on your life and if you do not take the proper precautions, it may well succeed. To that end, this is Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, who has been appointed to guard your person for the time being.”

One of the other Jedi stepped forward and lowered his hood. It was all Qui-Gon could do to maintain a stoic reserve at the sight that greeted him: Kenobi was a beautiful young man with ginger hair, a neat beard and the most gorgeous form Qui-Gon had seen in cycles. If Kenobi hadn’t been a Jedi, Qui-Gon would have been all over him. This was who they wanted to guard him?

Qui-Gon pinched the bridge of his generous nose and sighed. He could belabor the point, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t end up in his favor. He didn’t get as far as he had arguing against the tide. “Fine. I will not, however, curtail my normal operations. I can’t afford to do so.”

“We understand.” Windu inclined his head. “Knight Kenobi will accompany you wherever you need to go, and has been provided with the latest in detection gear. We will also be operating on the other side in an attempt to discover who tried to kill you and why.”

“The Senate Master-at-Arms is already investigating the blast.”

“We’re aware. We will be coordinating with that office and will keep you apprised of our findings, if any.” Windu bowed and the other Jedi in the room emulated him. “May the Force be with you.” Windu turned and nodded to Kenobi, who nodded back, then they swept from Qui-Gon’s office, finally.

Qui-Gon sighed. “My day has already been massively disrupted, Ser Jedi. I don’t anticipate leaving this office any time soon.”

Kenobi gave him a half-smile; it didn’t detract from his looks at all. “I shall endeavor to be as unobtrusive as possible, Senator, don’t worry.”

And, of course, his voice was as beautiful as the rest of him. “I’ll hold you to that,” he replied, far more brusquely than he had intended.

* * *

Qui-Gon Jinn was a creature of habit. This would come as a surprise to his colleagues in the senate, who had often called him ‘volatile’ or ‘unpredictable.’ Perhaps in work he was that way, but his home life was orderly and meticulous. He liked his meals at set intervals, and always strove to retire in such time that it would give him at least seven hours of sleep a night.

He had no pets and on the rare occasion when he needed companionship, he had an escort service which catered to wealthy and picky clientele. While he hadn’t been raised poor, his mother and father had instilled a sense of responsibility and good work ethic early on.

All that was why it was so intolerable to have someone involuntarily injected into his orderly life. Though it was true Kenobi was very unobtrusive, the fact he was there at all was difficult for Qui-Gon to stand.

No one got into Qui-Gon’s office without first being searched by Kenobi, not even one of Qui-Gon’s fourteen admin staff members. But for the most part, Kenobi sat near the door and read from his reader or meditated.

It was a long day, but it was finally over shortly before lastmeal. Qui-Gon dismissed the last of his staff and decisively turned off his dataset. “Well, Ser Jedi, my day is officially over, barring any more unexplained explosions. I take it you will be accompanying me to my home as well?”

Kenobi smiled. “Call me Obi-Wan, please, Senator. And yes, I will. You were unable to exercise today as you usually do; would you like to do so on your way home?”

Qui-Gon sighed. “I suppose you know all about my habits then Ser—Obi-Wan. No, I’ll exercise tomorrow. I have quite a bit of reading to do tonight so I’m looking forward to dinner. Shall I call ahead and order you some food?”

“No, it’s been taken care of.” Obi-Wan moved to walk ahead of Qui-Gon as they left Qui-Gon’s office. “All of your staff, including your majordomo and cook, were vetted by the Temple. Dexter Jettster is not unknown to me.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Qui-Gon said as he turned out the lights and locked the door to his main office. “He and his staff must cater to a quarter of the Senate.” He frowned as Obi-Wan knelt near the bottom of the door and fiddled with something. “What are you doing?”

Obi-Wan smiled and stood. “Just checking something. You’re usually the first one in your office in the morning, yes?”

“Generally, yes, although Zrilla sometimes beats me in. Shall we go? My dinner is calling me.”

Kenobi nodded and led the way to the where Qui-Gon’s speeder—his new speeder, since the old one was what had exploded—was docked. If Obi-Wan was surprised that Qui-Gon didn’t have a driver, he didn’t let on. Instead, he sat quietly in the passenger seat and when Qui-Gon looked over at him, he appeared to be meditating.

In short order they were at Qui-Gon’s apartment complex and he pulled the speeder into his reserved parking spot. Obi-Wan again led the way to the front door, where they were met by Qui-Gon’s part-time housekeeper, Benjy. 

“There you are, Senator. And this must be the Jedi I was told about. I daresay I’m glad he’s here. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” She shrugged on her coat as Qui-Gon shed his. “Your dinners are in the warmer. I’ll be by at the usual time tomorrow. Oh, and I’ve made up the guest room. Good night.”

“Good night to you too, Benjy. Thank you.” Qui-Gon put his coat away and turned to Obi-Wan. “May I take your robe?”

Obi-Wan look surprised by the offer, but gamely handed over his cloak. “I’ll do a sweep of your apartment before anything else, Senator.”

“Please, while we’re home at least, call me Qui-Gon. I dislike standing on ceremony.”

Obi-Wan smiled and nodded. “Qui-Gon. I’ll just be a few moments.”

The evening passed pleasantly. Qui-Gon had quite a bit of research on Malastare trade policies to do in preparation for the next day. Obi-Wan ate his dinner while studying from his own reader. When Qui-Gon put on some music, he belatedly asked Obi-Wan if it was all right.

“Fine by me, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan replied. “I’m a fan of classical music.”

“Ah. Good.” Maybe having a bodyguard wouldn’t be all that intrusive after all, especially one as good-looking as Obi-Wan Kenobi. It wasn’t like anything would happen anyway.

* * *

Qui-Gon was awakened in the middle of the night by an unfamiliar snap-hiss-hum and sickly blue glow—a lightsaber, in his bedroom. “Obi-Wan?” he demanded, still half-asleep.

“Don’t move, Senator,” Obi-Wan said, from his position at the window, his lightsaber still lit. “There are two dead kouhuns on your bed. I’ll help you move in one moment.”

“Kouhuns?” In the glow of the lightsaber, he could just make out shadowy pieces of something at the foot of his bed. “They’re illegal.”

“And deadly, even in death.” Obi-Wan left the window and moved to the bed, finally extinguishing his lightsaber. “Lights,” he commanded and the room brightened by degrees. There were, indeed, two dead creatures on Qui-Gon’s bed. “Move carefully, Qui-Gon.”

Gingerly, Qui-Gon slipped from his bed, sorry he had kept to habit and slept nude. His testicles wanted to retreat into his body at the sight of the gory mess on his bedspread. “How...?”

“A droid cut a hole in the plasteel and inserted them. I sensed the threat and came in to eliminate it.” Obi-Wan smiled grimly. “You may wish to put some shorts on, Qui-Gon. You’ll be sleeping in your guest room and I have members of the Temple coming to clean up the mess and repair your wall.”

“What about the droid?” Qui-Gon asked as he pulled on some sleeping pants and a singlet, then his robe over all. He was still in shock that someone had actually tried to kill him using deadly and illegal kouhuns.

“Knight Vess is following up on the droid. Let’s get you situated in your guest room.”

By the time Qui-Gon left his bedroom, his sitting area was full of Jedi. For once, Qui-Gon didn’t object; in fact, he was grateful for their presence. Obi-Wan led him to the guest room—the bed hadn’t been slept in and Qui-Gon wondered if Obi-Wan ever slept—and checked the room over quickly. 

“It’s clear. Try to get some more sleep, Qui-Gon. I’ll be in the next room and we’ll take care of the remains.” 

Frowning thunderously, Qui-Gon nodded shortly and climbed into the bed, though he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. A glance at the chrono showed him it was only two hours until dawn. The guest room bed wasn’t nearly as comfortable as his own, but he managed to fall into a fitful doze until Obi-Wan came to wake him shortly after dawn.

“Master Windu is here to see you, Senator,” Obi-Wan said. “We have some news.”

Rising and wrapping himself in his robe, Qui-Gon left the guest room for his sitting room, which was still full of Jedi, Councilor Mace Windu in the lead. “Senator,” Windu said. “Forgive the early hour.”

“This is my usual rising time, Councilor Windu. And after last night...”

“Yes, well, we’ve had some breakthroughs on that. First, the Office of the Master-at-Arms has determined that the man who died in the speeder explosion was a petty thief; so it’s assumed that he was in the process of stealing your speeder and got caught in an assassination attempt.”

Qui-Gon snorted and took a seat on the sofa. “I guess I owe him a debt then. Please, Councilor Windu, sit.”

With a short bow, Windu sat in the chair opposite Qui-Gon. “As for last night, we’ve traced the droid and the kouhuns to a bounty hunter named Jango Fett. Unfortunately, Fett has eluded us and we’re no longer certain he’s on Coruscant.”

Sighing, Qui-Gon settled his robe more securely around himself. “Well, that’s no good. I assume, then, that you’ll want me to remain under the watchful eye of Kenobi here?”

“We would appreciate it if you wouldn’t go into your office today,” Windu began, but Qui-Gon cut him off.

“No, impossible. There are several important votes due on the floor today, I can’t miss them. In fact, that might be the reason for the attempt on my life.”

“We’re looking into that angle,” Windu said impassively. “If you will not allow someone to take your place, then yes, please allow Knight Kenobi to accompany you today. However, we would really prefer—“

“Out of the question, Councilor.”

Windu sighed. “Very well. Knight Kenobi, a word in private?”

Qui-Gon watched Windu and Obi-Wan retreated to the side of the room and begin an intense conversation, one that really didn’t concern him, he told himself sternly. He stood and moved to his ‘fresher to bathe and begin his day. A glance at the chrono told him he was still early and had plenty of time.

By the time he was finished and seeking out something to break his fast the Jedi—all but Obi-Wan—had left. “Would you like to join me for breakfast?” he asked, pulling the bread out of the coldbox. 

“That would be a kindness,” Obi-Wan replied. “Let me help.”

In short order the two of them were sitting opposite each other at Qui-Gon’s small kitchen table, enjoying a simple meal and drinking tea. Obi-Wan kept giving him puzzled glances until finally Qui-Gon put his fork down and said, “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said, though the perplexed look didn’t leave his face. “You’re not exactly what I was expecting, I guess. You certainly don’t match your official bio.”

“Bah. Those things never match anyone. For example, Palpatine’s official bio lists him as ‘affable’ and I find him anything but such.”

Obi-Wan half-laughed, half-snorted and Qui-Gon smiled. “Having met the man, I’d have to agree with you. I don’t know why he’s on the short list to succeed Valorum when he retires. But I guess I expected you to have a staff and full-time help instead of cooking for yourself and living alone.”

Qui-Gon picked up his fork again. “I grew up in a household full of servants. After a while, I found it suffocating and vowed to never again rely on someone else for my basic needs.”

Obi-Wan merely nodded, as if his curiosity was satisfied. Qui-Gon left it at that.

* * *

The drive to the Senate offices was done in silence. If there were other Jedi about, they were certainly invisible to Qui-Gon. The first indication that the day would be anything but ordinary came as they approached Qui-Gon’s office. Obi-Wan held him back as he started to unlock the door.

“Your door has been opened,” he murmured, staring at the floor. It was then that Qui-Gon noticed something that looked like a tiny stick on the floor, near where Obi-Wan had knelt the night before. So that’s what he’d been doing.

“You set up a telltale?” Qui-Gon asked quietly. “It could be one of my aides having beat me in.”

“But it’s not.” Obi-Wan sounded firm in his opinion as he pulled out his comm unit. “Kenobi to Vos.” Then to Qui-Gon, he added, “Please stay back, Senator.”

Qui-Gon moved down the hallway and leaned against the wall, watching Obi-Wan work. There was a soft conversation via comm which resulted in another Jedi appearing, this one an older human male with wrapped hands and yellow, tribal tattoos across his eyes and cheeks. It was then two of his aides—Zrilla and Brock—arrived.

“What’s going on, sir?” Zrilla asked, joining Qui-Gon where he stood.

Qui-Gon sighed. “There was another attempt on my life last night. Now it appears that my office has been broken into. The Jedi are investigating.”

Both Zrilla and Brock gasped. “Are you all right?” Brock demanded softly.

“I’m fine,” Qui-Gon reassured them. “Jedi Kenobi was there.” He didn’t go into detail; there was no need to alarm them further. “When is the debate on the Malastaren alliance with the Banking Clan?”

Zrilla pulled out her datapad and began working, providing him with updates on what had happened overnight. Good. Qui-Gon needed staff who were focused on working, not on any threats to his person. In fact, _Qui-Gon_ needed to be focused on working and let the Jedi do their jobs.

Shortly thereafter, the Jedi cautiously entered his office and began scanning for problems. By the time they let Qui-Gon and his increasingly alarmed staff in, they were grim-faced. Obi-Wan took him aside. “There was an explosive device placed in your chair and six listening devices around your office. It also appears that your datasets have been sliced; I’ve sent for the Temple’s best slicers to come and see if they can trace the entry points and what, if anything was done. Are you certain you can’t stay away today?”

“Absolutely.” Qui-Gon would admit how shaken he was with his last breath. “In fact, I have a sub-committee meeting in a quarter-hour. Surely I’ll be safe on the floor of the senate and in chambers.”

Obi-Wan frowned thunderously and sighed, but nodded. “I’ll be accompanying you, and there will be three Jedi stationed outside chambers while you’re attending your meetings. We’re also working to secure the Senate floor.”

“I need to know who’s trying to kill me and why,” Qui-Gon groused, half to himself.

“I agree with you there,” Obi-Wan murmured in reply.

* * *

Sheev Palpatine raised objections to the Jedi presence in chambers. “This is a closed session, Senator Jinn. Outsiders are not to be admitted.”

Qui-Gon drew breath to argue the point but Obi-Wan spoke before he could. “Senator Palpatine, my security clearance is higher than yours, something you can check with the Office of the Master-at-Arms.” His honeyed voice became pointed. “My presence is necessary, and I can assure you that nothing I hear in these chambers would be repeated by me. If you’d like me to swear to that, I do so, by my Order and by the Force.”

His face darkening but his voice still light, Palpatine said, “I meant no disrespect, Ser Jedi. I am only speaking of protocol. But if you deem your presence necessary, then by all means.” He swept his arm out to encompass the room. “Far be it for me to gainsay the words of the most holy Jedi.”

“Hardly holy, Senator Palpatine,” Bail Organa said as he took a seat at the table. 

Qui-Gon sat as well, noting that Obi-Wan remained standing behind his chair. “No, definitely not holy,” he said, giving Bail Organa a wry smile. 

“The way you vote in the Jedi Oversight Committee might give lie to those words, Senator Organa,” Palpatine said.

“May we please address the agenda, gentlebeings,” Giddean Danu, the chair of the committee said, his voice aggrieved. 

“Of course,” Palpatine said. “My apologies.”

The rest of the meeting went as expected. There wasn’t much support for Malastare, not after the debacle with their long-time confederate Neimoidians at Naboo. But the member from the Techno Union and Palpatine both belabored the point that there was no proof Malastare had anything to do with the Trade Federation or the blockade of Naboo. Given that Palpatine was the Senator from Naboo, Qui-Gon found his obstruction odd, to say the least.

Finally, they moved the question out of committee with recommendations and onto the floor of the Senate for a vote, to be held later that day. Qui-Gon wearily gathered up his datapad and flimsiplast printouts and stood to leave, one of the last to do so. Bail Organa was just before him and stopped him with a hand to his arm. 

“Qui-Gon, what’s going on?” Bail asked in a low voice. “Rumors are everywhere and here you are with a Jedi... bodyguard?”

Once again, Obi-Wan spoke before Qui-Gon could. “Senator Organa, there have been credible attempts on Senator Jinn’s life that make it imperative he have protection, even here. That is not for public consumption.”

Bail’s eyebrows shot up. “Understood, Ser Jedi. Thank you.” Obi-Wan walked ahead of them out of the room and Bail leaned in close to Qui-Gon to add, sotto voce, “At least they gave you a good-looking one.”

Qui-Gon snorted. “Like I could do anything about it?” he muttered ruefully in reply. Bail laughed at him and Obi-Wan shot him a raised-eyebrow look from over his shoulder.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur of work. The vote on the Senate floor was loud and contentious but most of the measures did pass, despite the best efforts of certain members of the Senate, most of whom had been affiliated in one way or another with the Trade Federation, which was now dissolved. Towards the end of the day, Finis Valorum dropped a surprise of another sort, announcing he would be retiring at the end of the quarter—a mere half-cycle away—and calling for open elections. It merely added to the headache Qui-Gon had been brewing since the middle of the night.

Finally, an hour before lastmeal, Qui-Gon decided he was done for the day and sent his staff home. “I have a great need to exercise, Ser Jedi,” Qui-Gon declared as he turned off his dataset. “I don’t suppose I can use the Senatorial gym?”

Obi-Wan smiled at him and Qui-Gon’s heart went ‘thump’. Obi-Wan was really a good-looking man; it was too bad he was a Jedi and off-limits. “Actually, we anticipated your need, Senator, and the smaller gymnasium has been cleared for your use. Allow me to escort you.”

Relieved, Qui-Gon said, “Let me change first. I have my bag here.”

It was the matter of a moment to change into old, worn clothing in his small ‘fresher, then they were off. Damn Jedi tunics anyway, Qui-Gon thought as Obi-Wan led him to the smaller gym. It would have been nice to ogle that perfect form, but it was hidden behind robes and tunics and it really wasn’t fair. 

While Qui-Gon ran on the treadmill and used the weight bench in his usual manner, Obi-Wan had an intense, low-voiced conversation with two other Jedi who had been manning the door when they arrived. Finally, a satchel was passed to Obi-Wan and the other Jedi withdrew, though Qui-Gon was willing to bet they were still within earshot.

After an hour, Qui-Gon was a sweaty mess and feeling much better about life. As he walked in tight circles, cooling down and using a towel on his hair and face, Obi-Wan approached him. “Finished?”

“Finished,” Qui-Gon assented. “I’d really prefer to bathe at home if you can stand being in the same speeder as my sweat-soaked self.”

“I’ve been around much worse, Senator; you don’t even rate in the top twenty. And I would prefer you bathe at home as well. Your apartment and the surrounding block has been cleared for your use and your—and my—dinner awaits.”

Qui-Gon slung the towel around his neck and picked up his gym bag before following Obi-Wan out to the speeder. This time, Obi-Wan piloted and Qui-Gon allowed him to do so, still mostly relaxed from his workout. They arrived home after Benjy had left, though she had left him a note and a receipt for a new bedspread. 

They ate in companionable silence, save for the music Qui-Gon turned on. Finally, Qui-Gon put his reader down and pushed back from the table. “The next two days are rest days, and though I do have quite a bit of reading to do, I’m sure you’ll be happy to learn that I have no other appointments.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “A couple of quiet days at home would make the Council very happy, Qui-Gon. We’re still no closer to finding Fett or whoever bait-trapped your office. We were, however, able to determine that the slicers who compromised your datasets were after your files on the Trade Federation and several members of the Senate. We don’t know _why_ , of course, but it brings us full circle back to the events on Naboo.”

Qui-Gon swallowed and sighed. “I do not understand why they think I’m so important,” he muttered. “I’m just a member of the Senate.”

“You’ve provided the swing vote on many key measures, Qui-Gon, most recently on the censure and disbanding of the Trade Federation. That alone would make you a target. But the fact that you are the probable successor to Finis Valorum increases your threat assessment.”

“I’m not going to be elected Chancellor, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said sourly. He hid his surprise at Obi-Wan’s grasp of Senatorial politics. “Palpatine has bought himself enough votes that he’s all but ensured himself the position. I refuse to engage in such petty, quasi-legal politicking and that means I won’t have enough votes to carry the day.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Many in the Senate will vote their conscience and like it or not, you _are_ the best choice, if only because you won’t allow yourself to become a puppet of the bureaucracy.”

Qui-Gon waved his hand dismissively. “Thank you for the compliment, Obi-Wan. Nevertheless, I doubt it will come to pass. The next couple of tens should tell the tale.”

They took turns in the ‘fresher and Qui-Gon dressed in night clothes, despite his usual proclivity. The events of the evening before made him wary, and, in fact, kept him up after he retired. Finally, about midnight, he gave up tossing and turning and left his bedroom, thinking to get his reader and read himself to sleep. 

He discovered the lights on in his lounge and the furniture shoved to one side as Obi-Wan performed some sort of dance moves while holding his unlit lightsaber. Qui-Gon gaped at him from the door to his bedroom for several minutes before Obi-Wan noticed him and gracefully came to a stop, his breathing deep but not labored.

“You’re up late, Qui-Gon, did I disturb you?”

“No, I couldn’t sleep. What are you doing?”

“It’s a kata in the fourth form. It requires a light meditative trance which heightens one’s connection to the Force.” Obi-Wan graced him with a crooked smile. “You’re unfamiliar with how Jedi exercise, then?”

“I... I’ve never seen it, no. That’s an exercise?”

“One of many.”

“I’m afraid I know next to nothing of the Jedi,” Qui-Gon admitted.

“And yet you’re on the Jedi Oversight Committee,” Obi-Wan said with a mischievous grin.

“Ha! Point. Bail roped me into it, though. And I do my research before every question, so at least I attempt to be fair.” Qui-Gon spied his reader on the sofa and moved to grab it.

“You _are_ fair,” Obi-Wan said. “You’re one of the few Senators who has never tried to cut our funding for extraneous purposes.”

“Oh, is that why you’re so keen to see me elevated to Chancellor? Going to do a Jedi Mind Trick on every Senator on the floor?” He began scrolling through his reader.

“We don’t involve ourselves in the politics of the Senate,” Obi-Wan said, “unless, of course, one of its members is under attack.” He frowned. “What are you looking for?”

“I thought I’d downloaded a tome on Huttese poetry, but I can’t find it.” To Obi-Wan’s surprised face, he added, “It would be certain to put me to sleep, I think.”

Obi-Wan laughed out loud. “I can see that. Do you play Sabacc?”

Nonplussed, Qui-Gon replied, “I love to play Sabacc, not that I get many chances to do so. Do you play?”

“Of course. Perhaps a few hands would settle your mind enough for sleep. Either that, or I could teach you some meditation techniques.”

“Oh, no,” Qui-Gon demurred, “I doubt I would be a very apt pupil. But Sabacc sounds wonderful. Let me get the cards.”

Obi-Wan played Sabacc as well as he did everything, apparently. They spent a pleasant hour in pitched battle, Qui-Gon winning one hand to Obi-Wan’s two. The third time Qui-Gon yawned, however, Obi-Wan put his cards down on the table. “I think it’s time for bed for all good Senators, Qui-Gon. I’m pretty sure I would have taken this hand anyway.”

“I can’t concentrate,” Qui-Gon admitted sheepishly as he stood. “Thank you. I think I can sleep now.”

“Well, if you need help, I’m available to teach you some techniques that might do the trick,” Obi-Wan said, smiling. It seemed to Qui-Gon that the smile denoted prurient interest—which was impossible. Jedi weren’t interested in sex.

Were they?

* * *

It might have been a rest day but by habit, Qui-Gon was up with the dawn anyway. He found Obi-Wan on the sofa in his restored lounge, sitting in lotus, meditating. He was wearing only an undertunic and leggings, which didn’t diminish his looks at all. Qui-Gon indulged himself by admiring Obi-Wan’s fine form until the man’s eyes opened. 

“Good morning, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said. He stood and stretched and Qui-Gon had to look away; the stretch exposed perhaps an inch of creamy skin over his well-muscled abdomen and it was all Qui-Gon could do to tamp down his desire.

Instead, he busied himself in the kitchen. “Good morning, Obi-Wan. Would you join me for breakfast again?”

“Of a certainty. Let me help.”

The morning passed easily in a haze of routine. Qui-Gon checked his schedule and made a few calls to various senators, then downloaded some reading to his datapad. He had several bills up for vote in the coming weeks and he needed to be ready for them. In fact...

“Obi-Wan?” 

He was reading from his own datapad but looked up at Qui-Gon’s soft query. “Yes?”

“I have a few measures coming up in the Jedi Oversight Committee and after last night, it occurs to me that I could be better versed in how the Order operates. Care to enlighten me?”

Obi-Wan gave him a brilliant smile. “I’d be pleased to answer any questions you may have, Qui-Gon. But I might have a better way to satisfy your curiosity _and_ keep you safe.” At Qui-Gon’s raised eyebrow, he continued. “Would you care to take a tour of the Temple? If you bring workout clothes, we can use one of the Temple’s gymnasiums for your daily workout. The Temple is one place where I know you’ll be safe.”

“I could take a tour of the Temple?” Qui-Gon was surprised. “I thought that was forbidden.”

“Oh, no, anyone can take a tour, provided it’s cleared by the Council and guided. You’ve already been cleared for the Temple, just by dint of you being on the Oversight Committee. Senator Organa is a regular visitor.”

Qui-Gon blinked. “I had no idea. Yes, that sounds wonderful. Let me get a bag of workout clothes. Benjy will be here within the hour and she hates it when I hang about the place while she’s working.”

Obi-Wan piloted Qui-Gon’s speeder to the Temple and landed at a busy dock on the south side of the Temple. It was an enormous place, very imposing and foreboding. Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan out of the docking area and into a huge hall dominated by a gigantic staircase. “This is the Grand Hall,” Obi-Wan said. “From here you can go to any corner of the Temple, from the training salles to the healer’s hall to the residences. The younglings should be in the beginning classes; we can go up a level and observe.”

Leading him up the stairs, Obi-Wan directed Qui-Gon to a room overlooking several different areas. In one of them, a group of younglings were laughing and throwing large, soft balls at each other.

But not with their hands. _With their minds._

It wasn’t the first time Qui-Gon had seen telekinesis in Jedi, but it was the largest—and youngest—group he’d ever seen it demonstrated. It was fascinating.

Without tearing his eyes away from the room, Qui-Gon leaned towards Obi-Wan and asked, “How old—?“

“These are the younger initiates, ages three to five. The older ones will be learning beginning ‘saber soon, and of course the oldest will be chosen as padawans. I believe the oldest initiates and the younger padawans are helping at the Coruscant food bank today.”

Qui-Gon looked at him, finally. “You don’t have a padawan, do you?”

“No.” Obi-Wan smiled. “The Force hasn’t spoken to me yet. But then I was only knighted a rotation ago. I don’t expect to take a padawan until I’ve had more solo field experience under my belt.”

“This duty must be terribly boring to you, then,” Qui-Gon said as Obi-Wan indicated they should leave the observation deck.

“Oh, not in the least. I enjoy mysteries.” And there it was again, a mischievous grin that gave his words more than one meaning. “It’s about time for midmeal, would you like to go to the commissary?”

“Already? I could eat,” Qui-Gon replied, his brow furrowed in thought.

* * *

The commissary at the Temple was enormous and broken up into sections, one for each type of Jedi species. Obi-Wan directed him to one dedicated to humanoid Jedi and here, at least, Qui-Gon found himself at home. He was used to eating in the Senatorial cafeterias and the commissary wasn’t much different; various humanoids clustered at tables, waiting in line for food, chatting and being, well, humanoid. One section was taken up almost completely with younglings and was significantly rowdier. 

After waiting in line to get trays of food, Obi-Wan directed him to an out-of-the-way table where they sat and Qui-Gon ate, staring around the room. “It’s different,” he finally said. 

“Not what you imagined then?” Obi-Wan asked, taking a sip of his juice. 

“I’m not sure what I imagined, but certainly not this. You Jedi have a reputation, you know, among the Senators. Palpatine’s comment about ‘holy Jedi’ is one that’s held by many.”

“As Senator Organa replied to him, hardly holy, Senator.” That mischievous smile was back. “We’re not monks. Not even celibate aesthetes, despite rumors to the contrary.”

Qui-Gon felt a fundamental shift in his perception and not a little bit of excited speculation. “But I thought...”

“We have a no attachments rule,” Obi-Wan explained. “But that’s attachments outside the Temple. There are bonded knights and masters who live and work in pairs or even triads. Many of us take specialized classes in various disciplines and pair up to better accomplish various tasks. Oftentimes, those pairbonds last for many rotations.”

Qui-Gon frowned and ate his midmeal as he thought. “What kind of specialized classes?”

“Well, take language arts, for example. All Jedi are expected to speak and/or understand three languages aside from Basic. I speak five, but understand eight. I’m never going to be able to warble in Kashyyyk, but I understand it.” Obi-Wan took a bite of his own food, chewed and swallowed. “All initiates are expected to take classes in language arts, diplomacy, government, self-defense... the list goes on. Many of us, however, choose to specialize in one area or another, and all of us take a teaching cycle when our duties permit.”

“What do you specialize in? Diplomacy?”

“It’s not my first love. I’m mechanically inclined and love to tinker with things, and I’ve won several awards in ‘saber competitions. Finish your meal and we can go to one of the salles to exercise and I’ll show you another kata, one that uses a lit ‘saber.” 

Qui-Gon smiled. “I’d like that.” He bent to his midmeal—which was really quite good.

Later, as they left the commissary, Qui-Gon asked, “How many Jedi do you have in residence here?”

“In this Temple, roughly a thousand. But we have satellite Temples, as well. Most of them are specialist in one thing or another, such as the Dantooine Temple, which caters to historians.” Obi-Wan stopped in front of a door. “Here we go. This should be mostly empty at this hour, since the padawans are in classes.”

The gym—or salle, as Obi-Wan called it—was smaller and deserted. There were treadmills, stationary bikes and weight benches in one area, and another was taped off in a large square. “Let’s go change first,” Obi-Wan said, leading Qui-Gon to another door that led to a lavish ‘fresher, lined with lockers.

Qui-Gon changed into the old, worn clothing he preferred to work out in and Obi-Wan stripped down to his undertunic and leggings, then they left the ‘fresher.

“I need to warm up first,” Obi-Wan said. “Feel free to use any of the machines.”

Qui-Gon did some perfunctory stretching before getting on one of the treadmills and setting it for a slow walk to gradually warm up. He jogged for about ten minutes then increased the incline and moved at a brisk walk for another ten minutes, before finishing at a run on the flattened deck. Slowing once again to a walk, he glanced over at Obi-Wan and nearly fell off the treadmill.

Obi-Wan had his lightsaber on and was leaping and tumbling, fighting an invisible foe and doing it in breathtaking style. Qui-Gon stopped the treadmill, picked up one of the towels off the nearby rack and mopped his face as he watched, stunned by the grace and athleticism on display before him. Obi-Wan was poetry in motion and Qui-Gon had never wanted another being as much as he wanted his Jedi bodyguard.

After an uncounted time, Obi-Wan landed with his feet planted and his lightsaber held before him. He was breathing hard and had a fine sheen of sweat over his face and neck. Qui-Gon swallowed heavily and picked up another towel, walking to Obi-Wan to offer it. “That was incredible,” he said. 

Obi-Wan gratefully took the towel. “Thank you. That’s one of my favorite katas. I like the acrobatics of it.”

“All Jedi can do that?”

“To one degree or another,” Obi-Wan assented. “There are those of us who are more inclined towards study, but we all learn ‘saber katas. There are also forms called ‘open hand’ that have no ‘saber involvement. They’re among the earliest we learn.”

“Why?” Qui-Gon was honestly puzzled. “What’s the purpose of them? To help you fight? Jedi are more diplomats than they are fighters, correct?”

“Yes, but we do fight when the situation demands it. The Forms help us connect with the Force; they’re a form of meditation that—“ A chime interrupted him and he pulled a communicator from his belt. “Excuse me. Kenobi.”

The tinny voice of Mace Windu came from the communicator. “Knight Kenobi, please present yourself and Senator Jinn in conference fourteen at your earliest convenience.”

“Understood. Kenobi out.” He looked up at Qui-Gon. “Shower first? Or should we go and stink them out?”

Qui-Gon laughed out loud. “Shower. Maybe they’ve made some progress in finding out who is trying to kill me.”

“Maybe.” Obi-Wan gestured towards the ‘fresher. “Let’s not keep them waiting too long.”

The trouble with showering was, of course, that Obi-Wan also showered, in an adjacent stall. The second time Qui-Gon checked out that perfect, heart-shaped ass, he got caught, and the smirk on Obi-Wan’s face as he returned the favor was a thing of beauty. Qui-Gon couldn’t be upset though, he was caught fair and square. With a smug smile he kept internal, he noted it was nice to know he still had it.

They hurried and within a quarter hour were once again dressed and heading for yet another part of the massive Temple. This room was dominated by a large table surrounded by chairs, where a good portion of the Jedi Council was sitting. 

Mace Windu opened for them as Qui-Gon took a seat at the other end of the table. “I hope you’ve had a good tour of the Temple, Senator Jinn.”

“Yes, it’s been eye-opening,” Qui-Gon replied. “Jedi Kenobi was good enough to show me around and explain many facets of Temple life I had no idea existed. I must confess to feeling a bit ashamed over my ignorance.”

“Have a saying about that we do,” Yoda cackled. “Glad I am that more familiar you are. But news we have for you.”

“Yes, we found the bounty hunter, Jango Fett.” Windu pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately, he’s dead. We’re unsure if his employer killed him because he failed at his task or if something else happened, but regardless, that avenue has ended. But thanks to Master Vos, we know that the orders regarding you have changed to kidnapping instead of killing. Again, we’re uncertain why.”

Qui-Gon felt a headache blooming behind his eyes. “I don’t understand why I’m considered so precious. This is maddening.”

“We’ve traced the money paid to Fett back to someone in the Senate, but there the trail goes cold.” Ki Adi Mundi was a Jedi Councilor Qui-Gon didn’t know well; his voice was soft but decisive. “Since there are thousands of beings in the Senate, not to mention attendants and aides, the list of suspects is well nigh infinite.”

“We do have an idea, though it is not without risk.” Windu looked at Obi-Wan as he spoke. “Since the orders are to have you kidnapped, we’d like to use you as bait and allow you to be taken.”

“That’s out of the question, Master Windu!” Obi-Wan sounded scandalized. “We’d have no way of ensuring his safety!”

“A tracker we would use,” Yoda said, “organic in nature it is. Untraceable. Allow us, it would, to discover more of the plot against you.”

“I don’t like it.” Obi-Wan’s voice was flat.

Qui-Gon turned to him. “Give me some credit here, Jedi Kenobi, I’m not helpless. I think this might be an excellent way to force their hand.”

“I don’t doubt your prowess, Senator. But until this moment, the plot against you was to have you murdered. How can we be sure it won’t come to that if you’re taken?” Obi-Wan sounded exasperated and a little pissed-off.

“Every precaution will be taken, Knight Kenobi.” Windu’s voice was conciliatory. “But as it stands, this is our best hope for unraveling this mystery.”

* * *

They debated it for an hour until finally Obi-Wan gave in, albeit not gracefully. Qui-Gon was hustled off to the Healer’s Hall where he received an injection of an organic tracker which, he was told, would be flushed from his system naturally within a tenday. Then Obi-Wan completed his tour by taking him to the crèche where Qui-Gon was introduced to the youngest of the initiates and allowed himself to be used as a jungle gym by them.

Qui-Gon was in a superlative mood all the way back home. “I usually send out for food on a rest day, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said as they pulled into his apartment block. “Do you have a preference?”

“Anything would be fine by me, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan replied, docking the speeder and powering it down. “I’ve eaten things that would probably turn your stomach on missions. There isn’t much that I don’t like in the way of food.”

Chuckling, Qui-Gon followed him into the lift and punched in the code that took them to his apartment. “I can well imagine. I’ll look through my fliers and pick something that sounds good.”

The evening was refreshingly normal. Qui-Gon sent out for some flatbread and nerf ribs and he and Obi-Wan ate while Obi-Wan, at Qui-Gon’s behest, told some stories from his missions. It turned out that he and his master had been all over the galaxy and had seen some action fighting pirates and smugglers, as well as mediating some touchy treaties. When Qui-Gon asked after Obi-Wan’s master, his smile grew sad.

“She died, shortly after she cut my braid. Cancer. There are some things not even the Jedi can conquer.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Qui-Gon said. They were sitting together on the sofa in the lounge, each with a glass of wine. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“Not at all.” His gaze was far away. “I miss her, of course. But her last wish was to see me knighted and she did. She’s one with the Force now, and when I meditate I sometimes still feel close to her.”

“She raised a superlative Jedi, Obi-Wan. One I am proud to have as a friend.”

“Just a friend?” Obi-Wan asked, looking at Qui-Gon through his eyelashes. “I should very much like to kiss you, Qui-Gon. Would you allow that?”

Qui-Gon’s mouth went dry. “You would?”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about your lips—and other parts of you—all day.” Obi-Wan reached out and took the glass of wine from Qui-Gon’s suddenly nerveless fingers and put it with his own on the low table in front of the sofa. Then he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Qui-Gon’s. It was electrifying and with a barely-there moan, Qui-Gon leaned forward, opening his mouth in invitation. 

Before he quite knew what was happening, Obi-Wan had pushed him back so they were horizontal on the sofa. Obi-Wan was spread out on top of Qui-Gon and had his hands tangled in the latter’s hair, kissing the very life out of him. 

Like everything else he did, Obi-Wan was a superior kisser.

After a long, languid time, trading ownership of the kiss back and forth between them, Qui-Gon broke for air. “We should take this to the bedroom,” he said, his voice husky.

“You have excellent ideas, Senator,” Obi-Wan said, equally breathless. He was hot and hard along Qui-Gon’s hip, and Qui-Gon was so hard he ached with it.

In short order they were in Qui-Gon’s bedroom, pushing and pulling clothing in an ever more frantic bid to get to skin. Once naked, they tumbled to the bed and Obi-Wan ground himself against Qui-Gon, creating delicious friction and even more heat, if it were possible. Obi-Wan moved away from Qui-Gon’s mouth and moved to his neck, nipping and sucking, making Qui-Gon gasp and arch.

“Tell me what you want, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan whispered in his ear, then bit it gently.

“Oh...” It was all Qui-Gon could do to keep from coming over that honeyed voice. “I should... I should very much like you to fuck me, Obi-Wan,” he finally managed to get out.

Obi-Wan leaned up over him. He was flushed with arousal and bright-eyed; it was a very good look on him. Qui-Gon let his gaze wander down and saw Obi-Wan’s cock jutting out, big and hard and moist at the tip. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes. Please,” Qui-Gon whispered.

“Lube?”

“In the drawer, left side,” Qui-Gon indicated. “I’m close...” he added hoarsely. It had been too long since he’d had a lover and he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“Then let me help you with that.” Obi-Wan reached for the drawer, pulled out the tube of sexual lubricant, then slid down Qui-Gon’s body. 

Qui-Gon obligingly spread his legs to let Obi-Wan settle between them, then shouted when Obi-Wan bent forward and swallowed Qui-Gon whole. The moist heat and pressure were just too much and he arched, shooting into Obi-Wan’s mouth, his voice reduced to a rough mewling.

When he remembered how to breathe again, he had all but melted into the bedspread and Obi-Wan had two fingers buried deeply in his body, gently twisting and thrusting. “Uhhhh...” Qui-Gon panted.

Obi-Wan smirked at him. “Bend your legs, Qui-Gon, yes, like that.” He lifted one of Qui-Gon’s legs to his shoulder as he added more lube. When he pressed his fingers back in, he raked over Qui-Gon’s prostate, causing more fireworks and to Qui-Gon’s surprise, his cock began to sluggishly stir again.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Obi-Wan whispered, removing his fingers. Then he pressed himself into Qui-Gon and all bets were off.

He was going to have finger-shaped bruises on his hips the next day, Qui-Gon gasped to himself as Obi-Wan began long, hard thrusts. He was big, at least as big as Qui-Gon who was used to being the bigger man, and his stamina was beyond impressive. As Qui-Gon’s cock began to fill again, Obi-Wan used one hand to help him along even as he continued to pound, each stroke finding that sweet spot inside. 

“Beautiful,” Qui-Gon whispered brokenly as he reached up to wipe a trail of sweat from Obi-Wan’s face. It suddenly seemed to Qui-Gon that he was in both places at once, both the taker and the taken, feeling Obi-Wan’s pleasure nearly as much as his own. It was too much and the intensity was such that it caused him to white out in ecstasy.

His chrono told him it was much later when he drifted back to awareness. Obi-Wan was spooned up behind him, they were under the covers of his bed, and there was a pleasant ache in Qui-Gon’s backside. “You do everything well,” Qui-Gon murmured.

Obi-Wan chuckled, something Qui-Gon felt as much as heard. “Go to sleep, Qui-Gon.”

* * *

The next morning started beautifully for Qui-Gon, who had risen earlier than Obi-Wan and moved into the ‘fresher to shower. Halfway through, he was joined by Obi-Wan, who kissed him good morning and then slid to his knees and swallowed Qui-Gon down. It was all he could do to keep from falling in the shower stall at the sight of Obi-Wan slowly sucking him off. 

Before he could come, however, Obi-Wan stopped and stood. “I want you inside me,” he whispered over the sound of falling water. He pushed Qui-Gon to sit on the bench in the stall then turned and lowered himself, so that his back was to Qui-Gon’s front, and pressed down. He must have taken care of the lube situation before getting into the shower, because he was slick and hot and exactly tight enough to be perfect. 

Qui-Gon had to close his eyes and count backwards in Huttese in order to keep from coming immediately. Then Obi-Wan began to ride him, hard and fast. Qui-Gon reached around and began to pull on Obi-Wan’s cock and before long, Obi-Wan shouted out and spilled all over Qui-Gon’s hand, his seed washing down the drain. Qui-Gon came within seconds of him, wrapping one arm around Obi-Wan’s chest and holding him tightly.

The morning started great, which was good because the rest of the day went downhill, fast. It began after breakfast with a call from the Senate Ways and Means Committee chair about a meeting of that committee the next day, which was a surprise. Qui-Gon updated his datapad and sent word to his aides, who responded with more unexpected meetings and agenda items. By the time midmeal rolled around, all of Qui-Gon’s good feelings from the morning were gone.

“I feel a great need to exercise, Obi-Wan, and the best place to do that is the Senate gymnasium,” Qui-Gon told Obi-Wan. “And I need to stop at my office. Do you think this flurry of work means anything?”

“I don’t know, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said. “But I’ll accompany you to your office and to the gym. Let me update the escort with our plans.”

The ride to the Senate offices was uneventful. Qui-Gon synchronized his datapad with his dataset and downloaded a new schedule for the next day, then fired off several emails. He’d come to his office ready to work out, so didn’t need to change.

The smaller gym was deserted which wasn’t surprising for a holiday. Obi-Wan followed him inside and watched appreciatively as Qui-Gon started out on the treadmill. There had been another Jedi at the door, the same as the one two days before at Qui-Gon’s office, but he had left once Obi-Wan locked the door.

Qui-Gon was entering his second mile when there was the sound of a distant explosion and sirens. They looked at each other and Qui-Gon stepped off the deck of the treadmill.

“I suppose I should go see what that is,” Obi-Wan said grimly. “I’m locking the door behind me. Be careful; I’m not through with you.”

“I’ll be fine, go investigate and let me know if I should join you.” Swallowing his trepidation, Qui-Gon went back to jogging. After a few more minutes, he slowly began to slow down, breathing steadily. He heard a strange hissing noise then...

Nothing.

* * *

The first thing to register when Qui-Gon woke up was pain in his head. He felt like the bad end of a really good drunk and his stomach was rebelling as well. The second thing to register was that he wasn’t in the little gym, but was somewhere else—a warehouse? The third thing was he was restrained in some sort of magnetic prison by the wrists and ankles. Decidedly not the fun kind of bondage. Gagging, he forced his eyes to focus on what was before him and his stomach rebelled further—Sheev Palpatine.

“Oh, good. You’re awake. You’re a very difficult man to acquire, Qui-Gon.” Palpatine’s voice carried an unfamiliar oily timbre. “Your pet Jedi complicated things.”

“Palpatine. What is the meaning of this?” Qui-Gon demanded in a hoarse voice. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“That should be self-evident. I’m actually rather glad that Fett failed at his attempts to kill you, because now I have the chance to get you on my side.”

“ _Your_ side?” Shaking his head hurt but Qui-Gon did it anyway. There was an odd pressure on top of the pain that he couldn’t put a name to. “It was _you_ trying to kill me? Why? What did I ever do to you?”

“Aside from being a thorn in my side and thwarting my plans for chancellorship, you mean?”

“Release me.”

“No, I’m afraid not yet, Qui-Gon. Did you know that the betting pools have you ahead of me by thirty points? I find that intolerable. But if you do rise to the Chancellorship, you’ll do it from my pocket and that is quite tolerable.” Palpatine looked over Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “Maul.”

The most strange-looking humanoid Qui-Gon had ever seen stepped into his field of view. The being was small and compact, dressed completely in black, and had strange red and black tattoos on his bald head. There were also vestigial horns around the crown, reminiscent of Zabrak horns but not as large. 

“Master.” The being—Maul?—had a deceptively mild voice. 

“This is my apprentice, Darth Maul. It was he who managed to bring you here.” Palpatine smiled at Qui-Gon and it was not a nice smile. “Do a perimeter sweep,” he directed Darth Maul. “I’m sure the Jedi are trying to find him. You know what to do with any that might come in.”

“Yes, Master.” Darth Maul removed what looked like a lightsaber from his belt and stalked out of the room to Qui-Gon’s left.

“Your _apprentice_? Palpatine, you’ve gone around the bend. Release me and I’ll get you the help you need.”

Palpatine laughed. “I _have_ all the help I need, Qui-Gon. I’m a Sith, Darth Sidious to you, a student of the great Darth Plagueis, and I intend on destroying the Jedi and the Republic and raising an empire in its ashes. And you will help me.”

The odd pressure in Qui-Gon’s head seemed to increase. “I will not.”

“Then I will kill you and do it without you. There are others in the Senate who will gladly join with me, eventually.”

“There are many more who won’t,” Qui-Gon retorted. “And the Jedi will stop you.”

“The Jedi are no match for me, Qui-Gon. They weren’t at Naboo and they won’t be here. Darth Maul killed one and badly wounded another and he’ll kill your pet Jedi here. Whether or not you join with me. You want to join with me, Qui-Gon.”

Qui-Gon moaned and screwed his eyes shut at the pressure he was feeling. “No...” he whispered.

That’s when the wall to Qui-Gon’s right exploded, creating a large hole through which poured half a dozen Jedi. Palpatine screamed “NO!” and raised his hands. To Qui-Gon’s shock, blue lightning shot out of his hands and slammed into the Jedi, throwing nearly all of them down or against the remains of the wall, out for the count. But one of them, Qui-Gon was fairly certain it was Mace Windu, caught the lightning on his lightsaber and kept coming into the room. 

“It’s over, Palpatine,” Windu said. 

“It’s never over!” Palpatine screamed. He turned to the bank of datasets that lined the wall in front of where Qui-Gon was suspended and slammed his hands on two buttons. One of them must have been the control to Qui-Gon’s prison for abruptly he was free, collapsing in a painful heap. The other button opened a door in the wall to Qui-Gon’s left, through which Palpatine hurried.

Instead of going after him, Windu extinguished his lightsaber and came to help Qui-Gon. “Senator. Are you all right?”

Qui-Gon leaned heavily on Windu. He reached up and touched his forehead and was surprised to find it bloody. “That explains the headache,” he muttered. “You should go after him,” he said to Windu.

“Others are following him,” Windu replied, steadying Qui-Gon. “Have you seen Knight Kenobi?”

“No... but there’s Palpatine’s—he called him his apprentice, Darth Maul, running around here. You need to—“

With a great crash, Darth Maul came flying through the wall, near the Jedi who were just beginning to rouse themselves from where they had been thrown. Obi-Wan came tumbling in after Maul, his lightsaber lit, nimbly avoiding the stirring bodies on the floor. Windu lit his own lightsaber and maneuvered Qui-Gon back out of the way, even as he helped the other Jedi. Maul was fighting with a blood-red lightsaber that made Qui-Gon’s stomach turn again.

Obi-Wan directed the fight out the still-open door, the one through which Palpatine had disappeared, moving so fast his lightsaber was a blue blur. Qui-Gon craned his neck to follow the fight, his heart in his mouth. Palpatine had been so sure that Darth Maul would be more than any Jedi could best, and the last thing he wanted was for Obi-Wan to get hurt.

“Stay back, Senator, Obi-Wan doesn’t need any distractions,” Windu said. He stood in front of Qui-Gon and the other Jedi, clearly ready to take over should the need arise.

It did not. With a great leap, Obi-Wan flipped over Maul, narrowly avoiding the red lightsaber, and literally cut Maul in half. He toppled, in two pieces, and Obi-Wan powered off his lightsaber, breathing hard.

“Are you all right?” They both asked at the same time, then laughed a little. Qui-Gon noticed Obi-Wan favoring his left side and saw a scorch mark on his tunics. “You’re hurt!”

“It’s nothing,” Obi-Wan said, staring intently at Qui-Gon’s forehead. “You have quite a head wound. The healers are coming,” Obi-Wan said to Windu who had not relaxed his stance. 

“Good. I’m going after Palpatine. Kenobi, you’re in charge here.”

“Yes, Master Windu.” Obi-Wan helped one of the other Jedi to her feet then moved to Qui-Gon. “Let me take a look at that cut,” he said, using his tunic sleeve to gently blot at Qui-Gon’s face.

“I’m fine. I’m more worried about Palpatine. Obi-Wan, he thinks he’s a Sith. He wants to destroy the Republic.”

Obi-Wan was grim-faced. “The being I killed was well-versed in the Jedi arts, so I don’t doubt he was a Sith. We shall have to be wary in the future.” Then the healers poured into the room and Qui-Gon was left to their tender mercies.

* * *

Palpatine’s betrayal and belief he was a Sith rocketed around the Senate within a few days. He had disappeared, but the Jedi were confident they would be able to track him down eventually. Qui-Gon had a mild concussion and was placed on mandatory rest, not that he adhered to that stricture very well. He did, at least, stay away from his office for a couple of days.

Obi-Wan got a commendation for killing Darth Maul and rescuing Senator Jinn, not that he wanted it. 

And three tendays later, Senator Qui-Gon Jinn was installed as the new Chancellor of the Senate, to great acclaim and his vast surprise. Once installed in his new office, he immediately went about dismantling a great many hidebound practices and making, no doubt, even more enemies than he had before.

Qui-Gon hadn’t seen Obi-Wan since the commendation ceremony, but as his first, exceedingly long day drew to a close, he was pleased beyond measure to see the familiar form in the door to his lavish new offices. “Come in, come in,” he said, dismissing his aides for the evening. “It’s so good to see you.”

Obi-Wan came fully into the office, trading smiles and bows with Qui-Gon’s staff as he did so. The last of them closed the doors behind her as she left. “I’ve been hot on the trail of the Sith,” Obi-Wan said. “We’re getting closer. But it sounds to me like you may need another bodyguard with all the waves you’ve been making.”

“Only if it’s you,” Qui-Gon said, coming around his desk and enveloping Obi-Wan in a tight hug. 

“If I could, I would,” Obi-Wan murmured against Qui-Gon’s lips. “But you know I serve the Jedi and the Republic first, Qui-Gon.”

“I know.” Qui-Gon buried his nose in Obi-Wan’s hair. “I’ll take whatever part of you I can get.”

“Well, you can get all of me tonight, if you want. Tomorrow I have to leave early, but—“

Qui-Gon cut him off by kissing him. “I’ll take it,” he whispered against those soft lips. “I’ll take tonight.”

“Then let’s get started,” Obi-Wan said, and kissed him again.

end


End file.
